


You Don't Have to be Alone

by sarahdarling



Series: AoS Christmas Prompts [5]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: @sarah--darling on tumblr, Christmas, F/M, FitzSimmons - Freeform, Friends to Lovers, Headcanon, Home for Christmas, Original Character(s), Sci-Ops Era, Smut, aos christmas prompt, fitz's mum - Freeform, yes there is smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:49:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21701002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahdarling/pseuds/sarahdarling
Summary: Fitz visits his mother in Glasgow from Christmas, but she can tell he's not really into it and he would rather be with someone else. After a lot of bugging on her part, Lorna Fitz finally convinces our dear boy to follow his heart, but will he go through with it?Ended up being set during Sci-Ops era, but nothing but their flat is mentioned. In my headcanon, this happens the Christmas right before they go out into the field.
Relationships: Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons
Series: AoS Christmas Prompts [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1560640
Kudos: 34





	You Don't Have to be Alone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sarahdarling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahdarling/gifts).



> This prompt actually came from my mind. I love this song. Listening to the song I thought: I could make this a fic. Funnily enough, the song is not featured in the story. So this is a light interpretation.
> 
> Prompt based on: NSYNC song You Don't Have To Be Alone
> 
> As far as the photomanip, I could not find the original poster of the picture, but if someone knows, please let me know and I will give credit where it is due.

Fitz stumbled into the flat he shared with Simmons. He tried to stay as quiet as possible, it was almost 3am on Christmas morning. He had been traveling all night. 

The original plan was for him to spend the holidays with his mother in Glasgow. Two days of huffing and puffing around the house and his mum could tell something off. 

“It’s Jemma isn’t it?” Lorna Fitz asked her son, setting down his cuppa in front of him. 

He shook his head, picking up his tea and slipping it slowly. “I’m not getting into this with you mum. And it’s Simmons, not Jemma.” _Jemma was sacred,_ something he never had the right to utter. They were sitting down to open the small batch of Christmas presents in front of their small tree. 

His mum was perched on her precious chair (Fitz couldn’t remember a time without the chair being in the home, originally as his Dad’s, but it had now become a standing piece of furniture they had learnt to accept, and only his mother was able, and willing, to sit there). Across from the chair sat a modest looking tree, a real ever green but potted so Lorna could put it in the garden for future Christmas’. There were three presents marked in a lovely scroll. His Mum had a paltry three boxes to her name, one being sent from Jemm… _Errr…. Simmons._ Fitz reminded himself. If his mum could tell he was love-sick over her, surely a group of highly trained spies would be able to figure out quickly, even if they were Sci-Ops lower core of scientists. 

Lorna handed Fitz his first gift and he opened it. “New winter gloves!” he exclaimed. 

“Yes,” she said, “but these are specifically to be used when you travel home and need to use your cell phone without taking off your gloves.” 

“Oh! They’re tech friendly gloves. Great find mum!” Fitz actually seemed happy about his first gift. He handed a large one to her. “Now it’s not everything, but I figured you could start your collection, and as it gets released, you can update.” 

She looked at him skeptically. Slowly opening the golden paper, it revealed a giant giftbox of her favorite British drama, Coronation Street. “ _Oh Leo,_ ” she murmured. “It’s perfect. Thank you dear.” She turned it over in her hands, making sure to read each panel on the box. She was in complete awe, yet she still noticed her son eyeing his other present. “I wanted to make this final gift a little more special than things in the past.” 

He eyed it warily but began to remove the paper. It seemed to be a hardcover book, but none of the pages were the same size. He turned it over and looked at the cover: **Engineering Through the Early Years: by Leopold Fitz.** Fitz opened the book slowly and turned from page to page. It was years of his previous drawings, sketches, and ideas for inventions, things even he had forgotten about. He was in shock. “Mum,” he said, “this is the best. No, the most wonderful gift you could have given me. Thank you so much.” He stood up and kissed her check. 

”No, none of that now,” she laughed off, even though Fitz saw the mist in her green eyes. “Which one is next?” Fitz handed her a box that contained the most perfect flowered sweater in it. She cooed when she opened it and leaned forward to kiss her son again. “So, one left I suppose. Is that the one from Jemma?” Fitz nodded in affirmation. No matter how many times he asked Simmons what she had purchased for his mum she refused to share the information, just smiling. 

Lorna took the small box, shaking it slightly, just to frustrate Fitz even more. She removed the silver bow and started on the winter scene wrapping paper. She could see a thicket and a deer near it. 

”Just tear it mum!” 

She finally followed Fitz’s directions and removed the rest of the paper off the box. It was small and black, obliviously a jewelry box. Lorna took a deep breath and opened the black box. Nestled inside was a stunning white-gold necklace. The chain was simple, yet elegant, and hanging from the bottom was a thin tablet. Centimeters thick, maybe an inch long, and judging by eye alone, Fitz figured it must be 1/4 in width. Tears had started streaming down Lorna’s eyes. She flipped the necklace over and made a surprised hiccup. 

”What is it mum?” he asked quietly. She held it up and over to him. He saw on the front his whole name written vertically. Under that, his date of birth 8/19/1987 was scrawled out. He quickly flipped it backwards and was shocked to find longitude and latitude. Doing some quick calculations in his head he was able to determine that this must be the exact location he was birthed at. “Wow. This is amazing.” 

”Jemma is such a dear. She always takes her gifts to the next level.” Lorna smiled. “Not that I don’t think your present isn’t just as wonderful. I swear if you don’t marry that girl, I’m going to find another Scottish boy for her.” 

**”MUM!”** he shouted. “Just stop. Please?” 

”I’ll make you a deal Leo,” she paused. “You take your grandmother’s ring home with you this trip and I promise to not mention how perfect it would look on Jemma’s finger ever again.” 

Fitz rolled his eyes. His mum had been trying to get him to take his gran’s ring home for six years, always commenting that Jemma would suit it well. How could she possibly know that when they were 16? Thinking about marriage at that age is utterly insane. Without noticing, his mum has fished out the small heart shaped box and blown off the dust. 

She looked at him exponentially, holding out the box so he could take it. He made move forward, she audibly sighed. She raised her eyebrows; he turned his head towards the fireplace. Finally, she said, “Leopold James Fitz! You take this ring right now and stop acting like it doesn’t belong to you.” Getting up she slammed the box into his open palm and went back into the kitchen. He studied it carefully for a minute, as though his future depended on it. Shaking his mind out it’s stupor, he stuffed the box into his right pocket. 

“You know, if you packed and left now, you’d be back to her by very early Christmas morning.” 

“Mum,” he blew out exasperated. “I came to spend the holidays with you.” 

“But son, you don’t even want to be here. After getting here you told me stories about you and Jemma for hour after hour, then you became silent and moody.” Fitz glared at her. “See! You’re doing it right now. Leo dear, you know how you feel about her, you just need to let her know.” 

He hung his head in defeat. Shaking it back and forth slowly, he brought his blue eyes up to his mother’s sparkling green ones. 

“Mum,” he whispered, “it’s not like that with us… and it never will. She tends to date someone with more muscles, less brains.” Something that made Fitz furious to no end. 

“And what’s the longest she’s been with one of those big muscle Toms?” Lorna crossed her arms across her chest to make sure her point was concise. Fitz refused to answer. “From what I can remember of those phone calls, she had always moved on within two weeks.” She started tapping her foot. 

“Oh _monkey._ ” She bum-rushed him and threw her arms around him. “You need to try.” Lorna could hear him sniffling. “Listen, there’s a flight leaving tonight around 9pm, not the best turnaround time for your old mum, but love is definitely a better reason than to spend time with me.” 

Fitz looked up at her, tears still hanging in his eyes, but not falling. “Are you sure Mum?” 

Lorna smiled and nodded. Fitz leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. 

“Thanks mum!” he placed his cup down, jumped up, and ran the short distance up the stairs to his bedroom. Packing had been a rush, but he still managed to get his mum’s present to Simmons in, as well as plenty of British junk food. 

With his laptop sitting at his makeshift desk, he sat down, looking up the number for **Aer Lingus Airline.** He waited more than enough time to get through and had started pacing the room before they could answer. 

“Hello, and Merry Christmas. My name is Amelia and I would be happy to help you today. What can I do for you?” She sounded way too cheerful for being there on the holiday, but he was thankful he didn’t get a person who could not understand him. 

“Hi…” Fitz started. “This is going to sound like a really strange question, but have you ever been in love?” he blew out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, was it really that easy to admit his true feelings? Hopefully it would go like this was when he went to tell Jemma. _Simmons! You don’t want to assume she likes you more than partner and best friend._

“Haha. Yes sir,” Amelia responded. “I could write a book on unrequited love and it’s ramifications. But a man like you, he should have no problem getting the girl of his dreams. Now how can I help you get there?” 

“Well, right now I have a ticket to leave on the 27th from Glasgow to Boston, listed under the name Leopold Fitz. But I really need to be on the 9:02pm flight on the 25th of December, same airports.” 

“The one later tonight? On Christmas day?” 

“That’s the one,” Fitz responded. “Please. If there’s anything you can do you would be the patron saint of love… and air.” 

Amelia laughed, “Let me see what I can do.” She took a look at the original ticket and showed, that it was thankfully, one of the few tickets that wasn’t purchase as non-refundable or non-changeable. Checking the 9:02pm flight, she saw there were several seats left, including four located in the first-class section, which even though he would be getting an upgrade, he would still end up with a refund close to £238. “Great news Mr. Fitz! Not only is there availability on the flight you want, but you’ll be able to upgrade to first class and you’ll still be receiving a refund of £238. Would you like that refund to go directly to the credit card you used to book the flight?” 

Fitz was flabbergasted. He had never imagined that this hairbrained plan would actually fall into place. “Uh, that sounds great. Thank you.” 

“Alright Mr. Fitz, your new ticket will be at the airport check-in desk. Skip the regular line and head for the first-class section. Please bring two forms of ID, your passport and license will be acceptable.” Amelia was happy she could help this love-sick fool. “Is there anything else I can do to assist you today?” 

“No, no thank you.” He was relieved and terrified at the same time. He hung up the phone and got back to cleaning up his stuff. Tossing his clothes back into his medium sized duffle, he took extra care with the snacks and Simmons’ present. He was pretty sure his mother had purchased her another cardigan (as it was common knowledge, they both wore similar looking cardigans). 

A slight jolt at his door diverted him from packing. 

“So, it seems you’re flying home to tell Jemma how you feel?” Lorna said proudly. 

Fitz pinched the bridge of the nose. “I never said I was going to tell her how I ‘feel.’ I am simply going home early because I miss her, and I don’t want her to spend Christmas day alone. It is a simple mathematical problem. If R=me in Glasgow and Y=Jemma in Boston, then to get both parties together we have to use F=flight back to Boston, as the catalyst. Finally, Z=us being brought together. Z=F (R + Y). Easy.” 

Lorna jiggled with nervous energy. This could be it. It could be the last time they came as FitzSimmons to visit, rather from this point forward they could be simply LeoJemma. Now that she thought of it, she thought they should just stick with FitzSimmons. Next Christmas would be filled with love, mistletoe, and plenty of alcohol flowing to lower inhabitations. She didn’t have time to wait around for these kids to figure out what everyone else knew. 

“That’s it, all packed.” Fitz heaved a large duffle on his bed. “We have about five hours left mum, what do you want to do?’ He was smiling which means Fitz would officially enjoy this time with his mum. 

“Well,” she said. “We opened the gifts we had under the tree, this morning, so no need there. I can do a quick chicken fry-up and we’ll have a spot of early Christmas dinner” 

“With real Yorkshire puddings?” 

“Yes, I have enough to include Yorkshire puddings.” Lorna laughed and Fitz pumped his fist in victory. “If you hurry, you can even pop into that bakery Jemma loves and you can pick her up a few blueberry scones.” By this time Fitz had already pulled his sweater over his head and was now pulling on his winter boots. He picked up his large coat to complete the look. **“Leo!”** his mum admonished. “I said after dinner.” 

”We might not have enough time. It’s a holiday and we have to be at the airport three hours ahead of time.” 

”That’s just a myth.” 

”No it isn’t! Who flies more? Me or you?” Fitz was only stating facts, but they did hurt to a certain degree. 

”Fine, just take your scarf along.” She pointed to the large pile of clothing laying on the floor, on the top which sat his latest scarf. He groaned and place it around his throat and neck. “And the hat.” She was relentless. 

“Now I’m ready for the snow apocalypse.” He joked, which in his life of work, could actually not be a joke, but an absolute terror. His mum headed down to the kitchen as he stood still, thinking of all the ways this could change things, or that he could just clam up and say that he wanted to come home earlier. He had already made up his decision once his mum called up that the fry-up and Yorkshire puddings were almost done so he better get his little butt in gear otherwise there would not be any pastries left for him. 

Fitz took the stairs two at a time and arrived at the front door. 

“Supper will be ready in 10 minutes.” 

He followed his mum back into the kitchen to make sure she didn’t need any help. She was fine, as always, but he busied himself making them both new cups of tea. One sugar three milk for her, four sugar, 1 milk for him (Jem… _Simmons_ was always on his back about getting down his sugar intake). He was on holiday though, and what she didn’t know, she couldn’t yell at. 

”Best head out now love.” Lorna grinned and Fitz nodded at her. The bakery only took a few minutes to reach, but it was crowded. He waited patiently until it was his turn. “I’ll have four blueberry muffins, two sesame seed bagels, three little tubs of cream cheese, and a fudge brownie for my mum.” 

Scurrying out of the shop, he made good time home. Fitz practically buzzing with happiness because he was freezing his bollocks off. This time Lorna pointed out the clock on the wall. “Just enough time, then we’ll get you to that plane.” She was already laying plates and silverware out on the dining room table. “A feast for a king, oven baked chicken, roasted potatoes, even kilted sausages, your favorite., and to top it all off, Yorkshire puddings! Tuck in dear.” 

Fitz wasted no time in reaching for several of the kilted sausages. He must have had at least four before realizing there were other items on his plate. He picked up a Yorkshire pudding and piled it high with chicken and potatoes. “Mmmmmm,” he said biting in. “Mum, you always made the food so great...” 

”Oh!? I thought Jemma could cook.” Lorna asked. 

”Mum, we both cook, and we take turns cooking. Don’t want the other one to get burnt out.” 

”How considerate of you…” she waggled her eyebrows in the way he deemed were her “matchmaking” eyes and, once again, he turned away from her. Fitz looked at the clock on the wall. 

”Time to go.” 

“Sure thing,” she gathered up the dishes and moved them into the kitchen. When she came back into the living room she was already dressed in her scarf, coat, and snow boots. She also had a pretty warm jacket that allowed to her layer (just like Jemma had taught her). “All ready dear? Better get your stuff Leo. If we don’t leave for the airport now you might be late. It still is going to be a Christmas eve flight.” 

Their flat was quiet, especially given the hour. The tree was still lit up and he could see two stocking hanging off the mantle, but over-filled. He shook his head, _of course Simmons would think of that._ She was so considerate of other people. He was in the middle of removing his coat when he realized: _What if she has someone else over? That second stocking doesn’t have to belong to me._ Sobering him up quickly he removed the rest of his winter clothing and hung it by the door, where they always do. 

Silently cursing at his duffel, he opened it and removed the box of pastries from the bakery in Glasgow. He also grabbed the present his mum had sent for her. He moved into the kitchen and placed the pastries on the counter, walking back, he passed the tree and placed the gift under it. He picked up his duffel again to make his way back to his room at the end of the hallway. Walking pass her door; he saw it was cracked open. They had developed a code over their time together in the flat, and having your door cracked meant the other person was allowed to enter. He silently placed his duffel down outside the door and pushed inside. No lights were on, but her face still seemed to glow. His feet were light as he made his way over to her bed. Sitting down next to her, he saw her smile slightly in her dreams. He reached out and brushed the hair off her forward with his right hand. His fingers lingered behind and she let out a small moan and pushed her head into those fingers. 

“…Fitz…” she whispered. He smiled, emboldened by her unconscious train of thought. Without thinking, he leaned forward and brushed his lips against her temple. “Mmmmmm” Simmons moaned and slowly opened her eyes. “Fitz. It is you! She sat up and threw her arms around his neck. He stiffened for a moment then relaxed into the hug. “What are you doing home? It’s not the 27th.” 

He pulled out of her embrace, separating them only slightly. “I missed you,” he confessed, “and I didn’t want you to be alone.” At that moment the largest thought running through his head was that he had an engagement in his right pocket. 

“Well,” she started, “I’m so glad you’re here. The heater’s been out the fritz again and you’re really the only one who can repair it. You won’t believe how cold it’s been! I mean, look at this!” she pulled fully out of the embrace and held up all her blankets and he could just make out the milky skin between shirt and pants. “I’ve had to use five blankets. Five!” 

”I promise I will take a look at it in the morning. It is too late to be starting on an electrician’s job (not that I can’t handle it),” he said cockily. “By the way, you have blueberry scones from that little bakery around the corner from my mum’s, your favorite.” 

”Oh Fitz!” she threw her arms around him again, this time snuggling into his shoulder. “You are always my favorite person.” Fitz’s body started to react to her closeness so he pulled his bottom half back as far as he could. Slowly, they separated. 

”Now, I want you to lay down again and go back to sleep,” he said matter-of-factly, “if you don’t go back to sleep Father Christmas won’t leave you a present in your stocking.” She laughed slightly but accepted the fact. She pulled him down with her. 

Her voice came out, barely a whisper, “Happy Christmas Fitz.” She lifted her head up and brushed their lips together. Pulling back fast she added “Good night,” and rested her head against her pillow. 

Fitz was dumbfounded. _Did she really just kiss me? Nah. Maybe she’s still asleep._ He got up and left her room, picking up his things as he went. He left her door ajar, like she had had it before. He walked the extra few feet down the hallway to his room and opened the door, then quickly closed it shut. He shut it all the way behind him and laid against it contemplating what had just transpired. _It’s just because it’s Christmas._ He tried to convince himself. He took his time getting ready for bed. First, he removed the engagement ring from his right pocket and placed it into his pants drawer. A quick jump into the shower to wash the plane smell off him, a brush of his teeth, one for the curls on his head, and finally, putting his pajamas on (which consisted of an old grey shirt and flannel pants). The last thing he did before crawling into bed was crack his doorway open. He didn’t want Simmons to think he was angry at her, no matter what he was thinking about personally. 

Turning off his lights he climbed into bed. He tossed and turned back and forth for about 10 minutes, but just couldn’t get comfortable. Also, he was extremely cold. Colder than Simmons had made it seem, yet, she did have five blankets. Suddenly there was a noise from his doorway. It was her. 

“Hi,” she said. 

“Hi,” he replied. His breaths shallowed hard, not sure what was going on. He noticed her breathing had increased too. “Did you need something?” 

”It’s cold,” was her two worded answer. “Can I…?” She gestured towards the unoccupied part of his bed. It wouldn’t be the first time they had to share a bed out of warmth, but she had never kissed before that. He beamed at her and nodded. She scurried over, threw the blankets she was carrying over both their bodies, and climbed onto the bed. He helped her rearrange the blankets so they were better helping both of them. 

All of a sudden, his king size bed felt way to small. He liked to not sleep on the edge and had already claimed his space in the almost middle of the bed, laying on his right side. Jemma knew what she should do next. She should lay on the edge of the bed and wait to fall asleep, just being in his presence made her feel more at ease. She snuggled under the blankets and did something she had never dared to before. She inched back, seeking out his warmth. About five inches in, she paused, waiting to see if Fitz would react. And react he did, he also scooted several inches to put her just within his grasp. It seemed their dangerous game was finally coming to a close and he wanted to make sure she was absolutely positive before he did something he would, or both would regret. 

The bed dipped again, and her glorious back was pressed against his defined chest. His left arm was now thrown over her body, claiming her as his own. His right arm had cushioned itself for her head and he wasn’t the only active one. Her fingers drew lazy patterns up and down his arm, settling to join his fingers with her own. It was their turning point. So far, they’d cuddled, maybe a tad more than a simple cuddle, but they could both claim it was for warmth and move on to the next day. 

Jemma wasn’t prepared to do that. She reached back, grabbing his ass and pulling his groin into her backside. They both moaned at the contact. Ever so slowly, she started making little circles with her hips, letting out small whimpers as the soundtrack. Fitz started a counter thrust to intensify the feeling. He was releasing jagged little breaths. 

She looked over her shoulder to see that his eyes were closed in concentration. “Fitz,” her voice said with a little whine. He opened his eyes and locked them with hers. Gradually, their mouths moved into each other. Finally putting action into what they had always failed to do. Both moaned at the contact and their lips began to roam. Soft caresses soon got heated and Jemma’s ( _She’s definitely Jemma now_ he thought) tongue licked at the seam of his lips. He gladly opened and their tongues twisted together for the very first time. 

Rolling them over, he now lay partially on top of her, wanting to keep any dominance she was vying for. He moaned loudly when his body settled over hers. She snaked a leg between his left thigh and used it for her advantage. Still rolling her hips up to meet his, his groan shuddered when she hit a particularly sensitive part. She giggled against his lips. 

”Laughing? Now?” he asked jovially. Smiling she pushed her lips closer to his. It was then he felt her hand trailing up under his shirt, making no mistake that her intentions were to remove the garment. Fitz sat up and pulled off the offending cloth. Her fingers went directly to his back and as he moved his kisses down her neck and up against her ear, she scratched his back from top to bottom, receiving a resounding growl. He was now fully on top of her, his bulge rubbing her in the most delicious way. It wasn’t enough though. She needed those talented hands on her body. 

Jemma took control and flipped them, so her body was now on top. Sitting directly over his crotch, she sat up and pulled the sweater she was wearing from over her head. Fitz, for once, was thankful it was the middle of the night because now no bra separated him and the most perfect breasts he had ever seen. Both hands went directly to cupping them. Testing the weight, the squish, and the delightful sounds she made when he ran his thumb across a nipple. Pinching the nipple in his left hand forced her to grind down on top of him. He bent up slightly and took a rosy nipple in his mouth. Swirling his tongue around it, he then started to suck, only letting up with a light biting session. Jemma had her head thrown back and wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take. He switched nipples and she actually cried out. 

”Condoms?” she croaked out. “Please Fitz, tell me you have condoms.” He sat up, her still in his lap. Leaning over he pried open the drawer to his left side bedside table. He searched for a few seconds and came up empty handed. “What about the other side?” she asked, obviously in a frenzy. He leaned to the right side and pulled open the drawer on that bedside table. 

”Yes!” he exclaimed. “Two left. Is that enough?” He looked into her eyes, being sincere since the first time a piece of clothing had been removed. 

“It’s enough for now.” She reminded him she was in his lap by once again grinding her pelvis into his. His returned groan said much more than words could. “I guess you’re going to have to brave the crowds on Christmas day, cause Fitz, we definitely need more.” 

He flipped her back onto the mattress and started pulling off her pants. “Take off my knickers too,” she demanded. He didn’t need to be told twice. And there she was, Jemma Simmons. His Jemma Simmons. Naked in his bed. “Fitz, it’s sweet that you want to stare, but now is not the time.” He laid on his back and shimmed out of his flannels and pants. Jemma glided her body over his again. She briefly ran her hand down to massage his balls and run the ring of her fingers up and down his cock. 

He pulled her hand away muttering a “too much.” She accepted that and reached for one of the two condoms. She torn open the foil packet then rolled the condom onto his protruding dick. He smiled at her coyly: “top or bottom?” 

Jemma smiled back. “For this time, I think top, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to put that second condom to good use. I’ve dreamed about you pounding into him.” 

“Jesus Jemma!” 

“Sorry Fitz.” She chortled. He moved under her and she climbed back on top. She was too far gone to need anything else, just him, inside her, deep, thrusting. She took his cock in his hand and ran the tip up and down her folds. It was now slippery with her juices. Lining him up, she slowly started to sink down onto him. Each were making a different noise, but both knew what the other was trying to convey. Bliss. Pure unadulterated bliss. With nothing slow about, it, she started pounding up and down on his cock. Every downstroke caused her clit to rub against his pubic bone. _This isn’t going to last long,_ she thought. Fitz was busy meeting her thrust for thrust, even getting a little erratic at one point, letting her know he was close too. She bounced a few more times, really putting her whole body into it. He had his head thrown back and was making a keening type of noise, something she could assume meant he was going to come at any moment. She started making circles with her pelvis, pushing down in a random pattern. She was close, but it wasn’t enough. She used her right hand and moved it down her body. 

Fitz stopped her. “Let me,” he grinned. Next thing she knew he was rubbing perfectly hard circles on her clit. Between the motions of her hips, him counter thrusting into her, and his fingers on her clit it was what she needed to go over the edge. 

“Oh! Oh! Oh! FITZ!” Her body stiffened delightfully, and Fitz, he must have also reached completion because he was slightly shaking with the effort of keeping his cock as deep in her that he possibly could. She collapsed on his chest and he wound his arms around her. They lay there together, just breathing each other in and out. 

”Jemma,” Fitz started. “Next time I go out of town can we do this again?” Jemma started laughing loudly. Her body convulsing around his sensitive penis which caused him to need to pull out. Both made a disappointing noise at the loss. “It’s not that funny.” He was getting defensive. Both flopped onto the mattress, making sure to stay as close as possible. 

She turned and looked at him directly in the eyes, “Fitz, that is something I plan on doing with you many times over the course of our lives, and in many different iterations. You’re never getting rid of me now.” 

Fitz laughed. She actually wanted him, and not just for today, but for all the tomorrows. He briefly thought of his Gran’s ring tucked into his pants drawer and when would be the right time to bring it up. His mum’s _I told you so’s_ were echoing in his head. Just because she was right, in this case, didn’t mean he needed to give Jemma the ring tonight, _right?_

”Fitz, I can hear your mind turning.” She babbled, “it’s very late, it’s Christmas morning, and one of us,” she gave him a pointed look, “needs to go to the store for more prophylactics.” She reached down onto the floor and picked up her sweater and knickers. She had both on quickly, much to Fitz’s dismay. Jemma saw his face and laughed, “It’s for sleeping Fitz. You may be a furnace, but it’s still very cold in here and I cannot sleep naked.” He sat up too, grabbing his flannel pajamas off the floor. He slipped them on and laid back down on the bed. She snuggled into his side. “Happy Christmas Fitz.” 

“Happy Christmas Jemma,” he replied, kissing the crown of her head. Lying in bed with the woman he loved reminded him of the song he had heard on the radio…. Mora than once… Even May was humming it one day… He couldn’t remember all the words, but his favorite parts stuck out: _Outside the wind it seems so cold. Your heart is frozen like the snow. And there's no one home. To keep you safe and warm. Your eyes are red because you've cried. You fell asleep by the fireside. But there's one thing you should know. Oh, it’s Christmas baby. You don't have to be alone._

They’ve been celebrating Christmas together for a long time, but this moment, it was what made FitzSimmons to go to Fitz and Jemma. It might not seem like a big deal to any of their other friends, but this is what they wanted. 

**Author's Note:**

> I had to write some of the song into the fic. What type of NSYNC fan would I be if I didn't?
> 
> Reviewing, leaving kudos, or alerting me to your presence results in endorphins. Endorphins make me happy. Happy people write more fics. That science is sound.
> 
> Find me on Tumblr: @sarah--darling


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